A leaping sprite, unheard

Today I saw my first grasshopper of the summer.
It is early July and it was on the house step
I can no longer hear their sweet summer opera -
Though Mij still can – and the gangling insect leapt and leapt
For fear of being trod on though I was not so near.
A green sprite, all elbows and ankles, leapt and leapt at the door
In futile panic. I stayed and watched its mortal fear
Wanting to see it to safety not in concrete nor
On barren unforgiving walls but to some lush grass
Where it could stridulate away silently, least to my ear.
Even the bush crickets in the verge are now alas
Mute to me I’m told despite their loud and raucous churr
But I have my sight and am very thankful for this -
To see the bounding fragment of a summer spirit -
Lifts my spirits and makes me so glad I have not missed
A chanced glimpse. Perchance some more before this world I quit.

© RM Meyer,
Winswell Water, July 2019